


I’m OK Alone, But You Got Something I Need (to Destroy, Dammit)

by prettyasadiagram



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-10
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 05:13:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyasadiagram/pseuds/prettyasadiagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has a knack for bothering Derek. Nothing, however, touches Derek’s immense and deep-seated annoyance with Stiles’s recent wolf-themed purchases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I’m OK Alone, But You Got Something I Need (to Destroy, Dammit)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to thatdamneddame for finding my comment about this buried in her inbox and reminding me that this was a thing. You're the worst. Also, thanks for the beta. 
> 
> Thanks to TWC for knocking out my internet/cable for the day so I could actually finish this, because writer's block and laziness are two of my problems.
> 
> Title comes from "Brand New Key" by Melanie (well, most of the title does). 
> 
> Let me know if I need to tag for anything/my tagging fails.

Derek has many issues with Stiles. To name a few, his habit of blatantly ignoring locked doors, or the way he never lets Derek get the last word in an argument, or his latest decision to grow out his hair. 

Nothing, however, touches Derek’s immense and deep-seated annoyance with Stiles’s recent wolf-themed purchases. It makes his hands clench and his eyes narrow, and all that does is make Stiles smile winningly.

Laura would have loved it, he thinks. She was the one who bought the three wolf moon shirts and the cheap wolf tchotchkes. Before the fire, the study was full of creepy figurines and weird artwork. Their dad had encouraged it, laughing with each new addition. Afterward, when Laura looked at the knockoff wolves in gas stations and corner stores, her scent would turn sad and sour and Derek would end up buying her the disgusting powdered donuts and pretending he hadn’t noticed anything.

Now, seeing Stiles show up to meetings in a [patriotic wolf shirt](http://www.animalshirts.net/wolfshirts/wolfflag.htm), an American flag waving behind some completely unrealistic wolves, even if it’s completely accidental, brings up memories Derek isn’t quite ready to relive. At least that’s what he tells himself when he snaps at Stiles and ignores the brief hurt look that crosses his face.

Being a werewolf is serious business, he thinks, and then promptly realizes that he’s basically become an internet meme. 

//

Derek hopes it’s a onetime thing, this sudden appearance of wolf paraphernalia. Hopes Stiles found the shirt thrift shopping and forgot all about it after one wear. 

And then they go to the beach and Stiles pulls out [sunglasses](http://www.thejunglestore.com/Gift-Catalog/Wolf-gifts-toys-and-decor-wolf-items/Wolf-Sunglasses-by-TYCS) with tiny wolves on the sides. They are clearly two sizes too small and meant for children much cuter than Stiles, and Derek realizes that this is developing into a _thing_. 

He rewards himself for not ripping them off Stiles’s face and throwing them into the ocean by buying himself an ice cream cone and smirking when he hears Stiles’s heartbeat jump and stutter. Petty, maybe, but no one has ever said Derek was a good man.

(But when Stiles falls asleep, book in hand, while the rest of the pack tries to drown each other in the ocean, Derek bites his lip and moves the umbrella so that Stiles is in the shade. 

He pretends not to hear when a woman two umbrellas over coos softly, ignores her soft, _How sweet_. He just doesn’t want to listen to Stiles bitch about werewolf healing and impending awkward tan lines on the drive back, that’s all.

And if he ignores the calls of his pack to come have fun—Erica dutifully yelling to get the stick out of his ass, scandalized children be damned—well, someone has to make sure that no one steals their stuff. )

//

Erica might call Derek oblivious, but it’s not that Derek isn’t aware that if he made a move for Stiles, Stiles would be more than okay with it. He knows that if he looked back whenever he felt Stiles staring, if he leaned in when Stiles stood next to him, Stiles would most definitely worm his way into Derek’s space and set up camp. 

That isn’t the problem. It’s that Derek doesn’t know what he’ll do when Stiles inevitably does wear down Derek’s defenses, and he’d rather prolong that uncertainty as long as he can. He can’t mess up what he doesn’t have. 

Scott sometimes looks at him sadly, like he thinks Derek is denying himself on purpose, but it’s one thing to have pack; it’s another thing to have something just for him, and Derek doesn’t know how to put that into words Scott can understand. Not when Scott believes in true love and its magical properties as though he escaped from _Once Upon a Time._ Definitely not when Scott looks at Allison and nothing else matters; not hunters, not school, not even Lydia’s eternal belief that Allison could do so much better.

How can Derek explain that it’s easy enough to buy cheesy garlic pizza rolls because even though they contain enough cheese that they are actually inedible they make Isaac smile, but he isn’t sure he remembers how to wake up slow and easy and warm next to someone he trusts. 

He also has serious doubts about getting involved with someone who enthusiastically and unironically buys a [wolf onesie](http://www.aliexpress.com/item/Kigurumi-Pajamas-Big-Bad-Wolf-Pyjama-Animal-Suits-Cosplay-Costumes-Adult-Garment-Flannel-Cute-Cartoon-Animal/1506558019.html) for a Halloween costume. And so, with great patience and instead of mocking Stiles, Derek bites his tongue and throws a Reese’s at Stiles’s head. 

(The costume makes Isaac scowl and Lydia frown sternly before saying primly that it was only marginally better than coming as Red Riding Hood. Stiles blushes and Derek turns away before he can embarrass himself. Judging from Boyd’s side eye, he’s unsuccessful.)

//

And that’s all for a long time. No three wolf moon shirts, no fake howls while the pack trains, no books on how to train your oversized dog left lying around the apartment. Derek can’t say that he misses it, but something feels off. 

At pack meetings, Stiles shows up in his usual combination of plaid and converse and jeans that cling in all the right places and it’s exactly what Derek wanted—peace and quiet and no cheap wolf imitations—but he still feels thrown when there’s nothing for him to scowl at. Boyd looks like he knows something is up, but it’s going to take a lot more than Boyd’s patient scowl to get Derek to admit he misses being called Balto or Scooby Doo or White Fang or on one occasion, Snuffles. 

Sometimes he catches Stiles staring at him and looking contemplative. Not like before, when there was always the thin veneer of teenage lust, and not like Derek is a puzzle to be solved and put away. This is something different. It’s something like fondness and patience and amusement, and it makes the tips of Derek’s ears feel hot. 

//

School is out for winter break and then the pack is around Derek all the time. Hanging out on his couch, eating his carefully hidden stash of mint Milanos, breaking his TV when one of them gets too excited with Wii bowling. It’s nice. Comforting. And something in him starts to settle. 

And then Stiles walks in with a [wolf hat](http://www.nyctouchfan.com/index.php?route=product/product&product_id=126) on his head and his hands tucked into the dangling paws and a smug grin on his face.

Scott laughs delightedly. “Where’d you get that?”

Stiles shrugs. “Isn’t it amazing what you can find on the internet?” 

It takes a lot for Derek not to rip the damn thing off Stiles’s head. As he heads into the kitchen, he hears Isaac exclaim, “It’s so soft!” and despairs for his pack.

 

Stiles finds him later while the pack is arguing over pizza toppings. He’s still wearing the hat and he pokes Derek in the kidneys. “What’s wrong with you, huh? Jealous you don’t have an awesome hat?”

Derek snorts. “Jealous is not the word I’d use. You’re lucky I even let you in my place with that on your head.”

Something gleams in Stiles eyes and he shifts his feet a bit, and Derek realizes that they’re standing kind of close. He can see that Stiles’s left eye has golden flecks in it and his lips are chapped and bitten red. Stiles’s heartbeat jumps a bit and Derek has no idea how far this might go.

“Like you could ever kick me out.” Stiles smiles at him, something edging on hopeful in his eyes, and Derek breathes in and takes a chance. He thinks about Stiles curling up next to him on the couch during movie nights, about buying Stiles his weird coffee concoctions before stakeouts, about last week when Stiles tripped him for the last slice of pizza. For the first time, Derek really lets himself think about how he wants that all the time.

Stiles still hasn’t said anything, so Derek curls one hand tentatively around Stiles’s hip and closes the distance between them. He ignores Erica’s catcalls and Scott’s cries of despair in favor of deepening the kiss and pinning Stiles firmly against the kitchen counter.

//

When Stiles walks into the loft, he’s bundled up like it’s below thirty out instead of the balmy fifty-five is actually is. He peels off layer after layer of scarf and sweater and then Derek realizes it’s the day that Derek has been dreading: the wolves are back. 

Stiles is wearing a monstrosity of a shirt displaying [wolves in uniforms](http://www.animalshirts.net/wolfshirts/10-3360.htm), and Derek cannot even.

It’s something that Laura would have gleefully picked out and given to some unsuspecting family member during the White Elephant gift exchange. Derek almost certainly would have ended up with it, no matter how much he tried to rig the game. He’s almost curious as to where Stiles even found something so hideous, but he’d rather not know. 

“No. Nope. Out.” Derek points at the door. “Go change.”

A grin spread across Stiles’s face and he plucks at the shirt. “You don’t like? Found this great deal on Ebay, five for—”

Derek scowls. “I hate you.”

“I don’t even have to be a werewolf to know that’s a lie. I definitely remember you pining when I stopped wearing this crap.”

“You are the actual worst.”

Stiles laughs. “Did you know you can custom order formal wear with wolves on it? I was thinking, Dad’s got that swearing in ceremony coming up, and—”

From extensive trial and error, Derek has learned that finding some other way to occupy Stiles’s mouth is quickest way to stop him from talking. If that means tackling Stiles to the couch and kissing him quiet, well, Derek can live with that.

When the rest of the pack show up, Isaac’s complaints of again walking in on them are duly noted and ignored, and the pack meeting postponed until further notice.

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not repost this work in its entirety or share this work on third-party websites such as Goodreads.


End file.
